been no bed of roses
by Serendipital
Summary: Law finds himself staring his childhood dream in the face, long after he'd given up on it. Now he-and the people he left behind-will be forced to reconnect as he finds his way home. Unfortunately, while Law has spent over a decade in the Blues, only a summer has passed in England. This complicates things.


Stupidity was contagious, Law suspected. Worse than the common cold. Oh, there had been evidence all around him, but he'd never truly, sincerely believed until he found himself flying across the ocean in a luminescent pink bubble at what-the-fuck miles to an hour.

He blamed the Strawhats.

It had seemed like a good idea at first, much like when he'd decided to perform impromptu refractive surgery on himself. Swapping the cyborg with Kuma himself could only make the fight simpler, he'd told himself-a flesh-and-blood _man_ was sure to have more weakpoints than a near-indestructible _android._ Let the Strawhats handle the robot, he'd thought. The trouble magnets had caused the whole thing anyway.

What a shame, then, that Kuma apparently had a ridiculously powerful Devil Fruit.

Law shook his head, croaking out a self-deprecating laugh. He'd been suspended in the air for hours, cramped and battered, but all he had to show for it was a round of the blame game. Not that he could do much else-the bubble ignored any attempts he made to steer it, and he couldn't swap with something he couldn't see. With his luck, he'd land in the sea, steps from the shores of Raftel, and drown.

Kuma hadn't even done him the courtesy of a nice view. Everywhere he looked was a blur, blues and greens blending together. Where could he possibly be going? Or was he going anywhere at all? Maybe he'd fly right off the map, suspended in the damn bubble for all of eternity. Even if he did land, assuming he hadn't made a full circle around the earth, it would be a trial to reunite with his crew. Without him, they'd have no direction at all. Likely, they'd be sitting ducks as they waited on Saobody, for however long it took Law-months? Years?-to return.

He pointedly ignored the voice in his head informing him that his crew had been on the same burning, marine-infested Saobody he'd been flung from and were likely already detained or dead.

His eyes burned, but they didn't have the opportunity to do much more than that before a tree branch nearly snapped his neck. Law snapped to awareness, his Room flying from his fingers, pushing at the pink bubble. Briefly, it expanded, before snapping back within the space of a breath- _deep breaths, one-two, not a good time to hyperventilate_. It was no more than he could do earlier, but desperation made him stubborn, and sweat gathered on his brow as he pushed harder. Quickly, or he'd be a bloody smear on the gr-

When Law woke up, he was lying on cold stone in the shade of a building, separate from the bustling crowd outside the grand doors. With a groan, he pushed himself off the ground, taking in his surroundings. There wasn't a dent, where he'd landed, nor were there any stray bits of stone. It was as if he'd just appeared there, rather than having slammed into it at terminal velocity. Gently prodding his body, Law was able to rule out a concussion, but he was covered in bruises, and likely had a cracked rib or two. Better than he'd expected to come out from this.

But this wasn't the time for a full medical examination. That would have to wait until later. He was attracting attention; he caught the eye of several people before they looked away, deciding to go back to their days after he'd proven himself un-deceased. Carefully, Law adjusted his hat, and reached to adjust his sword-but it wasn't there. It must have fallen off when Kuma had sent him flying. He closed his eyes for a moment with a sigh, mourning, but managed to walk forward, shoes clacking against the pavement as he entered the square proper. Two fountains in the middle, a tall tower ahead...an odd sort of feeling came over him as he took in the sign.

 _King's Cross Station_

He considered it with a frown. An island in the North Blue, maybe? The air had a slight bite to it, even though it was mild weather judging by the crowd's shorts and t-shirts. But that didn't sound right at all. Something niggled at the back of his mind, a few images, half-remembered conversations, and-oh. Law stared at the sign again, a weight settling in his chest. There was no way back; he'd _tried. Relied_ on that fact, even.

Swallowing his disbelief, Law's legs moved forward before his head did, and by the time he'd shaken himself from his daze, he was standing in front of a small plaque. Platform Nine. Tentatively, he placed his palm against the wall, and felt the sudden lack of stone under his fingers. If he was lucky...if he was lucky, he'd feel the biting cold as soon as he stepped through, a blast of salty air. This was what had brought him to the North Blue to begin with, after all.

But before that...Law forced himself to step through the wall, hoping for snow under his feet and a chill in the air. It was unfortunate, then, that instead he got the distinct scent of smoke and the sound of a busy train station.

He froze, felt his hands grow slick, absently wiped them against his shirt. This was where that wall had led, before...Before. A decade ago, _years_ ago, when he'd actually dreamed of seeing that scarlet train again. He'd wanted nothing more, but now, all he could think of was his yellow submarine, his crew and his dreams that only had a place on the Grand Line. The universe had a terrible sense of timing, he thought, somewhat hysterically.

Something bumped into him from behind, sending him toppling onto the tile. Law took in a deep breath of air-had he been breathing before?-and felt a little more grounded. Hah, grounded. Law held in what would undoubtedly be more a wheeze than laughter.

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!" A woman with bright red hair appeared in his field of view, creases tight around her eyes, offering a hand. It was with only a slight pause that he took it, pulling himself upright, coming face-to-face with the woman. She was older, gray streaks spotting her hair, and carried a trolly behind her. He felt...warm around her, just a bit. Comfortable. He'd known her before, hadn't he? Or else someone like her. He realized belatedly that her lips were still moving. "I wasn't paying attention-didn't expect a man standing right in the entryway, imagine-are you lost? I can give you directions-"

Law worked his jaw for a moment. "My bad," he said, carefully, taking a step back, out of the way of the pillar. "Just taking in the sights."

Confusion furrowed the woman's brow, but quickly she seemed to reconcile something with herself, and instead grinned warmly. "Oh, I know the feeling. I swear, when my first pulled out of that station, I was hit with-just a load of memories, you know. You make your best friends on that train." Law hummed in agreement, eyeing the pillar as two redheads sped out of it, riding on their trolleys. The woman's expression abruptly changed and with an apologetic smile, she turned to them. "Mind yourselves!" she snapped, stomping over to them, suddenly full of righteous fury. "Imagine-imagine if someone had been standing here, you'd be responsible for a-for a broken neck!" The twins didn't seem very cowed, despite her screeching. Wryly, Law wondered if she might be projecting a bit.

The twins had saved him from a difficult conversation. at least. Law lingered for a moment, watching as two more redheads exited the pillar at a much more sedated pace than their siblings. One boy, one girl. It was difficult to describe what he was feeling, watching the family bicker and tearfully say their farewells. Confusion, certainly. Frustration too. But he found it hard to separate himself, walk away into the bustle of the station, and even as he walked away some part of him kept an eye on the scene. Soon though, they disappeared into the crowd, and he was staring up at the train once again.

"Hogwarts," he said, quietly. The word was said in an accent he hadn't had for years, falling unbidden from his tongue. For all the years he'd been gone, the world had seemed to barely change. What was over a decade for him...there were three boys and a girl in that family still at this station, dressed in their school robes. It couldn't have been more than a year or two at most. He'd grown, and changed. Become strong, confident, a far cry from the scared child he used to be. He wanted to walk away, back through the pillar, the faint notion that he'd end up in the Blues stirring his thoughts-but somehow he knew he'd just end up back at King's Cross. It looked like his decision had already been made for him, and as Law stepped up to the train with no more than the clothes on his back and the devil fruit in his veins, he finally identified what was stirring in his chest.

Nostalgia, and a bit of loss.


End file.
